


Home Is Where My Heart Is

by ArgentRose



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Pining, sorry that I am awful with tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 15:24:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20744417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentRose/pseuds/ArgentRose
Summary: Jongdae stays in Minseok's house while the latter is away. He reminisces about the various memories that they made in the house before his hyung's enlistment.





	Home Is Where My Heart Is

**Author's Note:**

> This is a domestic headcanon of what I imagine Jongdae doing when he misses Minseok, finding some form of comfort to tide over the sensation of longing that arises from missing the man who makes him smile.
> 
> Some slight angst, some fluff, some pining.
> 
> ~~~  
🚨 DISCLAIMER: 🚨 This work is not intended to infringe upon the original work/works' copyright. This was made PURELY for entertainment purposes ONLY. All representations of the characters/people featured are not meant to reflect upon any of the Real Life people. Relationships featured are not to be reflected upon the Real Life people. To reiterate, this is for ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY, and just because the work features a specific relationship does NOT mean that I want the featured characters together IN REAL LIFE.

Jongdae pushes open the dark wooden door, the silver knob clicking behind him as the large barrier to the outside world fits into the accompanying black frame. Familiar white walls greet him as he slips his sneakers off, placing them on the shoe rack in the closet beside the pair of baby blue sneakers that he had considered wearing on occasion. He hangs his black overcoat on a hanger before picking up his bag of groceries from the earth colored hardwood floor. The plastic bag overloaded with various vegetables slouches on the counter, and something like nostalgia knocks the air clean out of his lungs when he inhales deeply.

Just a few months ago, their entire group ran around this very house when his best friend had hosted a housewarming party to welcome the eight of them into his newly built humble abode. That same day, during the party, he had made a snide comment on how he would stay in the house when his hyung was enlisted in the military. It was a comment that made his favorite hyung tell him to shut it.

Fast forward to the present day, with him standing around the kitchen with a bag of perishable goods calling him to unpack them. He does so, taking out the contents and storing them in their proper places, knowing what went where and how it should be organized.

Though the house wasn't technically his, Jongdae had come to call the place home. It was, to him, as much his home as it was Minseok hyung's; though all ownership still definitely belonged to his hyung and he would not disrespect that. It's just that...after having to watch as his hyung departed to the military camp, Jongdae didn't really know where to go. Yes, there was the dorms and the estate, but it all felt foreign with Minseok absent. And even though the house was for the most part vacant, something about it still commanded Minseok's presence. That was enough to call him back, to make it so that it was still lived in and not sitting alone, waiting for its owner to return after two years. Funny, Jongdae thinks, because it is the exact same situation that he finds himself in.

After storing the last of the vegetables he bought in the refrigerator, Jongdae closes the door and ticks a mark on the paper hanging on the door of the fridge. Groceries were done, now it was time to take care of the laundry. He crosses the living room, the sleek leather couch calling to him. If his hyung were home, Jongdae would be lazing on it like a kitten, watching in awe as his owner milled about doing house chores. Then he'd whine because he was not receiving his hyung's attention, constantly emitting this caterwaul of noise in order to get his hyung to join him so that they could partake in their daily session of cuddling and movie watching.

Only his hyung wasn't home, and the thought stabs something vicious into his gut. This odd twinge hits him square in the chest, causing him to inhale deeply before releasing an audible sigh to quell the uncomfortable buzz wracking his ribs.

Jongdae ignores the couch and pushes on, going to the white hamper. He lifts the lid, slowly unloading the contents into the washer. He mills over the white cardigan he had seen his hyung wear when they were allowed to go on a trip without their manager. It brings back memories that he suddenly wants to relive and perhaps redo, but as quickly as the desire cropped up, it passes and he allows the knitted material to join the pile already loaded into the vast space of the washing machine. He picks up a sweater that he knew his hyung wore at some point, dropping it into the machine only after debating whether or not to hug it to his chest. He quickly sorts and drops the rest of the clothes in before any overwhelming emotion can get to him. He hums a tune, part of his hyung's song "You," as he finishes up with the cleaning materials for the washer. He starts the machine and then walks back to the living room.

The kitchen called to him this time, and for the briefest of moments, he swears he could see the shadows of a picturesque vision playing before him. Minseok hyung is in the kitchen, cooking an unknown meal, and Jongdae himself is sitting at the barstool against the counter, talking wildly about something he can't make out. As he takes a step closer, he catches the smile he so misses on his hyung's lips before the vision fades. The kitchen is empty, save for the stray plastic bag lying flat on the counter. He frowns, chucking the thing into its proper drawer. He spins so his back rests against the counter. His hands rest on the edge, fingers curling as he grips the counter to support himself. He closes his eyes, trying to ease the odd, tingly bubble filling his stomach.

After what felt like hours, Jongdae finally came to the decision to cook something while he waited for the laundry. Something comforting and warm, almost like the hugs his hyung gave him. He settles upon a simple meal--miso soup--and breaks out the ingredients. Some seaweed, some tofu, green onions, bonito and kelp flakes, miso soup paste. There was a single packet of soup powder in the fridge that had rested next to the container he pulled out, but he wanted something fresh. He wanted something that he would feel proud of cooking, something that he could show off to his hyung when he came home. A small smile curls his lips and he nods in satisfaction.

Yes, he will cook homemade miso soup.

He could show it to Minseok hyung and hear him tell him that it was perfect. Or hear him note how it was too salty, which would cause him to whine. That would cause his hyung to laugh and then tell him it was perfect.

Oh how he missed Minseok.

Jongdae begins to work on the dashi stock, boiling the dried kelp flakes and bonito flakes in a pot full of water. He hums a tune again, this time it is his own song “Beautiful Goodbye,” as he cooks. He adds the miso paste, stirring it in slowly. Then he adds the tofu, watching as the small white squares bobble up and down the surface before blending into the yellow liquid completely. At that moment, the little tune for the washer goes off, and Jongdae does not move from his cooking station. The pile of wet clothes can wait, he decided as he tastes the soup. It tastes the way he likes it, and he pops a lid over the pot. He goes to transfer clothes to the dryer, leaves some off to the side to hang dry. The timer on the dryer begins to count down as he hangs the wet clothes to dry. He returns to the soup, grabs a serving, and eats.

He hopes that the soup is perfect for Minseok when he decides to make it for him. The older wasn’t really a fussy eater, but he hoped that it was as good as the soup his parents made. He talked about it a lot, mostly when he missed home. Jongdae would do the same thing, talking about his parents’ cooking when he missed home. He didn’t do it as much anymore, finding Minseok’s cooking had a certain way of making him feel like he was at home. Like the way his cuddles would make Jongdae feel loved, like the way his clothes made Jongdae feel warm. Then he thinks about how it is odd, really, how everything seemed just a bit colder in the expansive house now that his hyung wasn’t there to share it with him.

Not that it was Jongdae’s house. Though Minseok had made it abundantly clear when he visited that the house was welcome for him to stay in. He wouldn’t complain if Jongdae just threw his sweater on the couch. He wouldn’t complain if Jongdae sat down to write some lyrics without asking first. He wouldn’t say anything...he would just take the sweater and hang it up. He would offer a drink when he saw Jongdae sit down. He would sit down when there was no response and just watch him write, sometimes drawing a blanket up when either of them got too cold. Minseok would act like it was normal, and even if Jongdae apologized and whined about how his hyung was being too complacent or nonchalant about the whole thing, he would wave his hand or shake his head, and tell him that he was fine with it. No matter what, he always made Jongdae feel welcome and comfortable, and that was something Jongdae couldn’t be ever grateful for.

With the ceramic bowl in his hands empty of its contents, Jongdae stood up and went to the sink. He places it down gently, cleaning and storing what he could before he did the dishes, to which there were very few. There was the coffee mug that he used in the morning for his coffee, even if it wasn’t one of his favorite beverages. Then there was the recently used bowl for the soup he just consumed. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep him preoccupied until the dryer bellowed that it had finished its job. He dries his hands, staring at the blue towel for a little too long, and goes to fold the clothes. He quickly skims the contents of the various shirts, sweaters, and pants before tucking them away in their proper shelves. When he’s done, he just stands and stares, unsure of what he should be doing.

The bedroom at the far flung end of the hallway sounded like a pleasant place to relax, Jongdae thinks, so he walks in that direction. The plush black carpet around the master bed looked incredibly soft, tempting him to take his socks off. The bed itself looked too inviting; to say that he was not tempted to simply flop on top of the covers and sheets is a lie. But he ultimately decides against it, walking past the cozy looking bed towards the bathroom. After tidying himself up with a warm shower and giving in to temptation, he dives on top of the bed and messes up the sheets and blankets he worked so hard to make perfect in the morning.

If Minseok were home, he would laugh and then talk about how his dongsaeng messed up his handiwork. Then Jongdae would whine about how his hyung would do the same thing, when he put an effort into making the bed, laughing all the while as said hyung smothered him in lighthearted kisses for accusing him. Then they would put a movie on, Minseok would wait until his favorite dongsaeng was asleep, and then join him thereafter. They would wake up with their legs tangled and their arms draped across each other’s backs, laugh about how one snored while the other tried not to hit them, and then lay there. They’d take in how the other made them feel comfortable and cozy, warm and welcome, loved and light. Then they’d finally decide to get ready for the day.

Only now, as Jongdae laid in bed, he felt it was too big for just him. Too spacious, too empty. It felt like he was swimming in the expanse of black sheets and white linens, searching for the touch of someone who wasn’t there beside him. It felt devoid of the addiction that was his hyung’s presence. Absent of what would be the touch of his hand beneath the ocean of sheets. He missed the feeling of pillowy lips on his, the way eyes as dark as his hyung’s favorite coffee gazed at him with an intense passion and adoration. He missed the way Minsoek’s fingers would snake through his hair, squeeze his arm when he got so close. He really did miss it and lying in this large bed, staring at a white ceiling with an uncomfortable sensation causing his stomach to churn, did nothing to stop the sudden wave of sadness from washing over him.

He swallowed, gulped, tried to take in as much air as he could. He silently counted the amount of days that passed and closed his eyes. He pictured Minseok lying awake in the military cot, staring at what could be a dilapidated ceiling, counting the days until he could be home with Jongdae again. When he cracks his eyes open, he exhales a loud sigh, turns, and tries to sleep. His fingers toy with the pillow next to him, tapping the spot where Minseok’s head would be if he were in that bed with him. To the tune of Minseok’s song, Jongdae manages to close his eyes. He hums along, murmuring parts of the lyrics he enjoyed hearing until he finally dozes off.

Jongdae dreams of Minseok returning from his enlistment, running into his open arms. They smile, laughing and crying as they take in each others’ presence. They talk about the plans that they had put on hold, making every moment count. Each sequence would end with them cuddling on the couch, blanket draped over their knees as the lights from the television danced across their features in the dark. There would be smiles on their faces, everlasting as long as they were together.

In the midst of sleep, Jongdae smiles. He really couldn’t wait for the day Minseok returns.

**Author's Note:**

> To say that I felt sad writing this is quite the understatement. I was going to make a happy ending, one where Minseok would return home as a surprise to Jongdae, but I thought it wouldn’t suit the vibe I was aiming for.
> 
> It did cross my mind a few times though. :3
> 
> Also, just wanted to give a heads up! Uni started again, so that is why I haven’t been online as often. I want to apologize for any messages and such that I missed in the time since. (TuT) I will try to keep on top of things like writing while uni is in session. XiuChen give me strength!


End file.
